


Talk Too Much

by TryingToScribble



Series: Song Prompts [4]
Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Awkwardness, Coming out of the Closet, First Kiss, Juliet totally knew, M/M, Some Fluff, but you won't care, is that a smile?, neither do these two, there's been a murder, typical Lassiter, typical Shawn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23769079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TryingToScribble/pseuds/TryingToScribble
Summary: Shawn talks too much. There's a crime scene for God's sake! Lassiter finally shuts him up.
Relationships: Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer
Series: Song Prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631662
Comments: 10
Kudos: 186





	Talk Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song [Talk Too Much](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWxM_zLJGsU) by COIN

Detective Carlton Lassiter stepped up to the suspect’s house on light feet. He was following a lead he caught while on a coffee run. For himself. So he didn’t have backup but he had informed O’Hara and she was on the way.

As he approached the porch he noticed the door was ajar so he pulled his gun. “Police!” He shouted while he nudged the door open wider with his gun pointed into the dark of the room. He heard nothing so he entered what seemed to be the living room.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the room and he caught movement in the corner of his eye.

“Spencer!” Lassiter called in shock and annoyance when he spotted the fake psychic looking anything but casual lounging awkwardly across the sofa.

Shawn jumped upright and gasped loudly. He held a hand to his chest as if the detective had scared him. “Lassie! Fancy seeing you here.”

Lassiter scowled. “You’re not supposed to be here.” He growled. There was no way Spencer would be here unless he had information he hadn’t given to the police, and wouldn’t that just make his day to arrest Spencer once and for all.

“No.” Shawn said. Lassiter was almost thrown by how quickly the fake psychic admitted his wrong doing. His quick surprise turned right back into annoyance as Shawn lifted a hand to his head. He tapped his temple with two fingers. “I know I shouldn’t be here but I don’t know where here is. You know I’m a slave to my psychic revelations!” The dramatics, as ever, didn’t impress Lassiter but he pressed on anyway. “I was in the Psych office with Gus. He heard the popcorn guy outside but he thought it was the ice cream guy so he rushed out to get blueberry snow cones, you know the ones that taste like magical sugary deliciousness.” Lassiter took a threatening step forward so Shawn sped up his explanation. “Anyway, I don’t remember Gus coming back so I must have blacked out soon after, swept up in the ocean of images, a slave to the visions.”

Lassiter had yet to put his gun down. He waved it vaguely in his direction to make his point. “Even if I believed any of that crap, it doesn’t explain why you’re in my suspect’s house.”

Shawn sighed. He stood. “Lassie, it goes like this…” He began, as if to offer his excuses. He cut himself off, though. With an aborted move to his left, he switched right and shook his body like he was seizing. Lassiter rolled his eyes at the display.

“Woah!” Shawn all but screamed. He waved his hand in front of his face a few times and then grabbed the front of his own shirt and tugged himself out of the room and further into the house.

“Spencer!” Lassiter shouted after him. “Spencer, come back here!” He followed.

They pounded up the stairs seemingly with no thought of the possibility of anyone else in the house. Lassiter will swear in court that he only went against the book to keep Spencer from foolishly destroying any evidence. And maybe from getting killed. He definitely allowed at least a full minute’s thought to letting a murderer just have at him. Then Lassiter wouldn’t have to deal with his antics anymore.

Shawn stopped dead at the top of the stairs causing Lassiter to almost crash into him. He yelled at nothing and spun to grab Lassiter’s shoulders. “I’m getting…” He slid his hands down Lassiter’s chest. Lassiter slapped at his wandering hands. “I’m getting Magnum PI.”

That piqued Lassiter’s interest somewhat. “The suspect?”

Shawn shook his head. “Sorry, Lassie. That’s just your influence on my psychic channels.” He grabbed his head and turned to run and skid halfway down the hallway. “Poirot? No. Miss Marple! Angela Lansbury!” 

“Murder She Wrote?”

“Murder She Wrote! Good job, Detective!”

He didn’t agree. “Murder? You put on all that stupid performance to tell me someone was murdered?” Lassiter threw his arms in the air in frustration so he wouldn’t strangle Spencer. “We already know he’s a suspect to a murder!” He turned to go back downstairs. They had certainly made enough noise to scare anyone that might have been there out into the open.

“No, Lassie!” He was grabbed from behind.

“Get off me! I don’t have time for your bullshit today, Spencer.”

Shawn let go after wiping his shoulders free of imaginary lint. And a glare.

He gasped again and made a noise that sounded like he was in pain. “I can hear you, buddy!” He called into the air.

“There’s no one here.” Lassiter said through gritted teeth.

“No one alive, Lass. My buddy here isn’t alive.” He waved his hands at Lassiter as if dismissing him. “That’s it! Call to me! Louder! I’ll follow your voice!”

“For Christ sake. Quit the act!”

Shawn continued down the hallway until he reached the end. Then he threw himself at the last door on the left. “Ah! He’s in here!”

Lassiter raised an eyebrow at the man. The idiot. He wasn’t going to fall for any of this. “What? Is the house haunted now?” He asked with a scoff and the shake of his head. “You best leave now, Spencer, before your dirty prints are everywhere. I will not hesitate to arrest you.” But he did and Shawn yanked himself into the room. Lassiter groaned and followed with a hand on his cuffs. 

A body. There was a body on the floor. There was a half dressed dead man covered in blood on the floor. “Right.” Lassiter said dumbly before coming to his senses and straightening. “Out, Spencer. This is a crime scene now. Don’t touch anything.”

“But-”

“No.”

Shawn looked like he was about to do as he was told but as he reached the door he closed it. Before Lassiter could argue the pleasure he would get from cuffing him, Shawn slapped a hand over his mouth and leaned his head in the direction of the door.

“What?” Was muffled behind Shawn’s hand. It didn’t move.

“Listen.”

There it was. A banging downstairs that sounded like doors opening and closing. 

Lassiter whipped himself out of Shawn’s grip and pulled his gun up. However, before he could stalk towards the door and the noises, he was manhandled backwards and shoved into a closet.

“What the hell do you think you’re playing at, Spencer? This is the scene of a crime and that could very well be the murderer.” He whispered harshly into what happened to be Shawn’s very close face. Shawn had bundled them into the small space together and shut the door behind them, taking advantage of Lassiter’s broken balance.

Shawn shook his head. “You don’t have backup.” He seemed to listen for a moment and Lassiter wondered when Spencer had ever muttered anything so responsible before.

A floorboard creaked loudly along the hallway and Lassiter’s whole body straightened to attention as he held his breath. Despite the fact that he was about to go in search of the intruder moments ago, he grudgingly agreed with Spencer’s assessment. It was best they not be found for now. They didn’t know if it was the killer coming back to clean up. Of course, the thrilling ambience that had Lassiter on edge couldn’t last. Not when the idiot of a fake psychic deigned to open a packet of chips with no sense of self preservation whatsoever.

“Spencer.” He warned in a whisper.

“What?” Shawn asked around a crunching mouthful. Lassiter ground his teeth together. “Oh. Did you want some? You only have to ask, Lassiepants.”

“Spencer.” Lassiter hissed a little more harshly, still trying to keep his voice down. It didn’t help that Lassiter could no longer hear the approaching footsteps of their maybe killer. He strained his senses to try and glean where the intruder was. It was fruitless while Shawn lived every moment of his life attempting to irritate him to death. The chip packet crinkled loud as Shawn shoved it awkwardly into the too small pocket of his jeans.

“What?” Shawn repeated like he wasn’t completely aware of what he was doing. “You want me to put them away. You don’t want me to put them away. Make up your mind, man.”

“Shawn. Shut up.”

Shawn acknowledged the use of his first name and finally stopped talking. His face held onto shock for a few moments before a smile grew slowly on his face. Carlton started to relax without the fear of Shawn’s insistent nattering bringing a murderer to their hiding place. He should have known to never trust the idiot psychic. Just as the door to the room made a squeak Shawn gasped loudly again. His hand attempted to make it up to his head but it got caught in Lassiter’s jacket. “Lassie! I know who did it!”

He had no time to be annoyed. With only the thought to keep them both alive Lassiter needed to shut Shawn up. He reacted on impulse. Later, he would scald himself for not simply knocking Shawn out to save everyone the embarrassment. As it was, his arms were trapped by his sides by said idiotic twerp so the only idea he had left to silence him was to kiss him.

It definitely worked.

Shawn seemed shocked for less than a second and then his hands curled into fists where they were still in Lassiter’s jacket and tugged. Lassiter caught himself by grabbing Shawn’s elbows. What had simply been a tactic to finally shut Shawn Spencer up now had Lassiter’s whole attention. He sighed and melted into it as Shawn had. He forgot where he was.

The closet door opened.

“Oh!” The not murderer squealed.

Lassiter jumped back and hit his head on the wood. He hissed.

“Jules!” Shawn exclaimed and for some reason that made Lassiter suspect he had known it was O’Hara the whole time.

They both stepped out of the closet. Juliet stepped backwards and avoided tumbling into the dead guy. “I’ll just…” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll let the others know it’s safe to come in.”

She left them alone in the room with the dead guy.

Lassiter didn’t know how to break the silence. Luckily, or maybe not so, Shawn did. “I’d almost given up.”

“What?” Lassiter said dumbly.

“Don’t get me wrong, I knew you like liked me but I thought I’d have to make the first move.”

Lassiter frowned. “I don’t like you.”

“Yeah you do, Lassie. Lassifrass. Lassinator. Your heart hearts me!”

Shawn stepped into Lassiter’s space. Lassiter held his position with what he hoped was a menacing look but came across more confused.

“I don’t like you, Spencer.”

“Then why did you kiss me?”

“You wouldn’t shut up.”

“You could have done literally anything else to shut me up. Why was kissing me your only option?”

“You weren’t listening and you had my hands trapped. Trust me, I would have liked nothing more than to slap you.”

“You’re strong. Pretty sure you’re strong enough that that wouldn’t have been a problem for you.”

Lassiter was stunned into silence. Of course he couldn’t, he argued with himself, he was absolutely trapped in that closet. There was no way he could have fought his way around Shawn’s gangly limbs and the tight space. Could he?

Shawn smiled victorious in the silence. “And you called me Shawn.” He pecked a kiss to Lassiter’s cheek and fled. “See you later, Carlton.” He said over his shoulder as he made his way over to the body and the room now filled with police officers.

Juliet looked sheepish and hesitated to step back toward Lassiter. “I didn’t even know you liked Shawn.”

“I don’t!” Lassiter denied quickly. It was distracted though as he watched Shawn lean over the body opposite McNab. He didn’t notice the smile that slipped onto his face when Shawn looked up and winked at him.

“Of course you don’t.” Juliet nodded and smiled, then left to call the scene in to the chief and ask for forensics. She had a hunch that Lassiter had forgotten protocol for the moment.


End file.
